A fair, delicate foot stretched out tentatively, the pale skin gleaming faintly in the rising steam. Its owner dipped her toes into the surface of the water with cautious curiosity.
The careful, almost timid movement resembled that of a small, easily startled creature—gentle, fragile, and irresistibly charming.
After testing the temperature for a moment and finding it just right, the foot slowly sank beneath the surface, followed by a slender calf, a graceful knee, and finally, the soft, round curves of her thighs.
"Mmm."
As her entire body sank into the bath, Ai Hayasaka let out a contented sigh.
Ahh… sheer bliss.
Leaning her smooth back against the tiled wall of the tub, Hayasaka tried to soak every inch of herself in the warmth, letting the heat seep into her skin. This was her moment of pure, private tranquility.
Though she was half-British, Hayasaka shared a fondness for bathing with most people of Sakurajima.
Her work was relentless. No matter how much stamina she had, exhaustion always found her by nightfall.
That was why a long, immersive soak like this was essential—washing away fatigue, easing her drained spirit, and restoring just enough mood points for her to get through the rest of the night.
With the comfort of the bath as fuel, she could finish her final tasks before bed without collapsing under the weight of all the negativity piling up around her.
Submerging her lips slightly beneath the surface, Hayasaka exhaled playfully. Bubbles rippled up, rising and popping with a soft gurgle-gurgle.
The sound, gentle and rhythmic, seemed to carry her thoughts away—to tomorrow.
She began to rehearse her schedule in her mind—
When to wake up.
What kind of makeup to do.
Which outfit to choose.
How early to arrive at the meeting point.
Where to go first…
Ever since Hara Kei had agreed, she had mentally practiced this countless times.
For someone with a memory as sharp as hers, the plan for tomorrow was practically imprinted word for word.
She had already accounted for every possible contingency—how to respond to unexpected events, when and where she might coincidentally run into Miss Yukinoshita Yukino and her sister, and, most importantly—
When and how she and her mistress would take their leave from the scene.
Every detail had been planned to perfection by the flawless maid herself.
As Hayasaka quietly reviewed her mental checklist, making sure she'd missed nothing, a faint creak echoed through the steamy silence.
The bathroom door, which she had carefully shut, was slowly opening.
"Who's there?!"
Hayasaka's voice rang out—half shock, half indignation—carrying the unmistakable authority of a head maid.
Aside from Shinomiya Kaguya herself, she was the highest-ranking person in this entire Shinomiya estate, managing every affair great and small.
And now, someone had dared to intrude into her bath, disturbing the one fragment of peace she possessed.
Whoever it was… had some nerve.
She was just about to snatch the towel beside her and cover herself when a familiar chuckle froze her hand mid-motion.
That voice—she had heard it for more than a decade.
It was carved so deeply into her soul that forgetting it was impossible.
Soft footsteps padded barefoot across the marble floor, the sound gradually drawing closer. When the figure emerged through the rising mist, Hayasaka could see her clearly at last.
Wrapped elegantly in a white towel, her long black hair still dripping from the steam, stood none other than her mistress—Shinomiya Kaguya.
"Eh…? Why?" Hayasaka blinked in disbelief.
Kaguya had her own private bath—far larger and more luxurious than this one, equipped with the highest-end bath oils and shampoos. There was absolutely no reason for her to come to the servant's bathroom.
As Hayasaka stared in bewilderment, the usual frost on Kaguya's beautiful face seemed to melt in the warmth of the steam, replaced by a rare softness.
Without a word, Kaguya stepped into the tub beside her.
Though this was technically the servants' bath, Hayasaka was the head maid of the Shinomiya household; it was still far from modest. The tub was large enough for both of them to sit comfortably with plenty of space in between.
For a while, neither spoke.
The only sound came from water droplets falling from the ceiling with a quiet plop, plop, echoing faintly through the steamy air.
"…How long has it been since we last bathed together?"
It was Kaguya who finally broke the silence, her tone carrying a hint of wistfulness.
"Hmm… the last time must've been back in third grade," Hayasaka replied, her expression softening at the memory. "You even got scolded by someone from the main house afterward. Since then, we never bathed together again."
"Because it was considered 'inappropriate between master and servant,' wasn't it?"
Kaguya's voice held a faint trace of mockery.
She turned to look at Hayasaka, her crimson eyes brimming with quiet trust.
"Hayasaka, you and I may be master and servant in name, but I've never once thought of you as my servant," Kaguya said. "To me, you've always been more like… a sister."
Hayasaka lowered her gaze, unable to meet those sincere eyes. Staring at the rippling surface of the water, she spoke in a low, hoarse voice.
"I know."
"I'm sorry, Hayasaka. Taking care of such a selfish mistress must have been hard for you." Kaguya sighed softly. "But I can't entrust this kind of thing to anyone else. In this entire mansion, you're the only one I can truly trust."
"…"
Hayasaka fell silent.
Kaguya was an illegitimate daughter, born to a concubine—her status within the Shinomiya family was far from high.
Though the estate was filled with servants, not one of them could be trusted. Any of them could be spies for her brothers, or even her father.
To the world, Shinomiya Kaguya seemed radiant and untouchable—but in truth, she was a songbird raised in a gilded cage, every flutter of her wings watched and measured.
Her recent contact with Yukinoshita Haruno was her first attempt to seize control of her own fate. And for that, she had to rely on the one person she trusted above all others—
Ai Hayasaka.
Looking at her mistress's face, glowing faintly with renewed resolve, Hayasaka clenched her fists beneath the surface. Her nails bit into her palms hard enough to draw blood.
A trace of crimson spread briefly in the water—then dissolved into nothing.
Please… don't look at me like that, my lady.
I don't deserve your trust.
A lowly traitor like me…
In this gilded cage of the Shinomiya estate—
The only bird imprisoned here… was not just Shinomiya Kaguya.
..
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